


Homo-Octopoda Oestrus: A Practical Guide

by darkangel1211



Series: A Study in Homo-Octopoda [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, As in John has a lot of lubricant, Bodily Fluids, Explicit Consent, Female Sex Organs in a man's body, Human Sherlock, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Octo Lips, OctoJohn, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel1211/pseuds/darkangel1211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop squirming, John.”</p>
<p>John huffed a laugh, his tentacle twitching in Sherlock’s hands. “I can’t help it if it tickles!”</p>
<p>Part One uploaded 30/12/2014</p>
<p>(Tags to be updated as the story progresses)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homo-Octopoda Oestrus: A Practical Guide

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own BBC Sherlock or any of the characters, nor do I make any profit from writing this. Just too inspired by the show that I had to borrow them.
> 
> A/N: Sequel anyone?
> 
> It's a little weird and very pornish, but I've had it banging around in my head for ages so here we are! 
> 
> Also, there is still some misuse over which knuckle is the first/second/third so for continuity's sake, here is the order that I use for this story - the first knuckle is nearest the palm and the third knuckle is the one at the end of your finger =) 
> 
> Enjoy! xxx

“Stop squirming, John.”

John huffed a laugh, his tentacle twitching in Sherlock’s hands. “I can’t help it if it _tickles_!”

That didn’t stop Sherlock from doing it again, running his fingers around the rim of the largest sucker on that particular tentacle and smiling when John started giggling again. “Interesting…” he said, watching the way the other limbs twitched and jerked in the same manner, as though he were touching all eight at once. “And if I do this..?” He let the tip of his right index finger stray close to the centre of the sucker, feeling the slickness gathered there and gently pressing into it. The sucker responded to his attentions almost immediately, pulling on the tip of his finger with a gentle pressure and guiding Sherlock to its core.

By John’s reaction (a series of half-stuttered gasps and, finally, a drawn out moan), the action wasn’t an unwelcome one.

Sherlock added sucker penetration to his growing list of how to stimulate John sexually while in homo-octopoda form, barely holding in his own groan when John’s natural lubricant began to overflow around his fingertip, the sucker gently… well, _sucking_ at it in rhythmic pulses. He took a deep breath, willing down his desire to see John splayed out beneath him as he thought about the one other place where those pulsations were likely to be happening as well; as much as he was keen to get to the main event, he reminded himself that he’d been waiting a month for this to happen again so he wasn’t about to waste a valuable research opportunity.

Especially as the subject in question seemed more than willing to participate.

John had started experiencing cramps less than two hours ago and Sherlock had made sure that he was present for the whole of John’s transformation this time. He’d eased John through the pain as his legs slowly morphed into his other form, unable to hide his fascination as John’s lower body ceased to resemble anything human before the tentacles had emerged. The process had been long but Sherlock used the trick with the hot water from before so John could rest in-between spasms, discretely setting a timer on his mobile to track John’s progress from the time the cramps started through to the final transformation. He’d watched as John’s genitals had been withdrawn into his body while his legs fused together; how the mass lengthened and changed colour to the blue Sherlock remembered so fondly and, when the time came, how it began to split near his hips, each line working its way towards the end of John’s  body before the tentacles finally separated themselves, curling and writhing around each other in the water.

To his immense pleasure, both for his scientific mind and for the wellbeing of his partner, the scenario wasn’t exactly the same as the first time he’d seen John this way. John had explicitly asked Sherlock to stay for the duration, urging Sherlock to join him in the tub so he could use Sherlock’s touch to distract himself from the cramps as his body started to prepare for the change. As promised, a larger bath had been bought specially for the purpose despite the large decrease in floor space, giving them both the room they needed to spread out in the hot water and reducing the odds of Sherlock accidentally stepping on one of John’s tentacles.

Once the transformation had finished (a total of forty-three minutes, twenty-five seconds to John’s amusement as he watched Sherlock stop the timer on his mobile), they’d spent roughly half an hour lazing in the tub in one of the most affectionate embraces Sherlock had ever experienced. There hadn’t been any urgency in their kisses or the way they used their bodies to caress each other, although John had clearly beaten Sherlock in that regard, having six extra limbs at his disposal. Sherlock’s body could attest to that, having been stroked and fondled in almost every way imaginable from the tips of his toes to the nape of his neck, and he’d quickly deduced that John could operate each tentacle independently without conscious thought. The lack of hands or fingers also didn’t appear to be a hindrance to John’s abilities either, using his tentacles to grab Sherlock’s favourite body wash and liberally coating the tips with suds before beginning to wash Sherlock with them.

Which wasn’t nearly as dull as he made it sound.

Now, both nearly dry from the water, Sherlock had John spread out on their bed while he completed a thorough examination of John’s tentacles; length, girth, sucker count and limb strength were all considered and evaluated before Sherlock was happy to move on, soothing John when any stimulation became too much in his highly aroused state.

The lubricant currently dripping down Sherlock’s index finger was smooth and sticky, evidence of John’s desire as the other tentacles wrapped themselves around Sherlock’s body, not hampering in any way, although certainly more _encouraging_ in their attentions. Combined with the lubricant and accompanied by the moist squelching sound as the sucker took his finger in as far as it could go (just to the third knuckle), it took Sherlock’s curiosity all of two seconds before he decided he wanted to know what John tasted like. He’d never had a chance to do so before as, once the mating instinct had kicked in, John hadn’t given him the opportunity to make any discoveries on his own and this was one particular area in which Sherlock felt he was sorely lacking.   

With some gentle persuasion and a whimper from John, the sucker let go of Sherlock’s finger, the sticky substance drawing out in a line as Sherlock lifted his hand to his face before it disconnected, hanging off in a tendril along his hand. Sherlock rubbed the lubricant between his thumb and finger, testing the viscosity and carefully inhaling, finding it odourless, before lifting it to his lips, darting his tongue out for a taste.

Oh, now that was unexpected.

Out of all the things Sherlock had assumed, _sweet_ certainly hadn’t been one of them. Given the nature of John’s transformation, he’d been expecting a briny taste at the very least, but nothing had prepared him for this. It was like licking a mild form of sugar syrup with a faint tang and he didn’t stop the impulse to lick his finger clean, moaning as he dipped it into his mouth so he could suck off any remaining traces.

“Oh my God…” John’s voice was frayed around the edges when Sherlock finished, his face stained red as he watched Sherlock pull his finger free. “I can’t believe you just…”

Sherlock smirked, leaning over John’s body so he could take John’s mouth in a kiss. “Good?”

John moaned, pulling Sherlock down so he could lick his way into Sherlock’s mouth, chasing his own flavour. “Better than,” he said, nipping at Sherlock’s lips.

“Good.” Sherlock sucked John’s bottom lip for a brief moment, turning the flesh a rosy pink before he pulled back, seizing that tentacle again when it tried to wrap around his waist. “Tut tut,” he murmured, coaxing it back to its previous position. “I’m not finished yet.”

John groaned wordlessly, helping Sherlock by pulling his tentacle back towards his own head and exposing the sucker Sherlock had penetrated earlier. It was still oozing when Sherlock ran a finger along it and he noted that the other suckers were also starting to react in the same way, each one glistening with the sticky fluid. “This didn’t happen before,” he said, mostly to himself, but John took it upon himself to answer Sherlock anyway.

“Bonded now,” he gasped, twitching when Sherlock carefully inserted his fingertip again. “Body didn’t prepare itself before – _ungh_ God – but I didn’t have a mate before either.”

That made sense; they’d been a couple before John’s transformation, but his homo-octopoda form had never been with anyone. John had technically been a virgin and now they were mated for life, which possibly meant… “This will happen more often?”

“Eventually,” John said, sucking in a sharp breath when Sherlock took his finger away again. “Once every month or so.”

Sherlock made a point of adding that to his mental catalogue; if this was going to happen more frequently, he was going to need to work out the pattern of John’s cycle for any future cases. There was always the possibility that John might start his transformation while they were in an undesirable location and Sherlock wanted to drastically reduce the odds of that happening as much as possible in the coming months.

But back to the matter at hand.

Luckily it didn’t look as though John had noticed Sherlock’s distraction, his hands twisting into the sheets as he waited for Sherlock’s next move. His body was still flushed with a bright red down the centre of his chest and his breathing was slow, deliberate; keeping himself under control as he willingly gave himself up to Sherlock’s scrutiny. Sherlock looked back down at the tentacle in his hands; at the way the tip writhed along John’s skin, the suckers spreading trails across his body as the tentacle moved, and he licked his lips as he remembered the taste of John on his tongue.

Before John could guess at his intentions, Sherlock pulled at John’s body, tilting his hips up to bring that tentacle closer to his face. The sucker was pulsing visibly now and Sherlock barely kept himself from trembling, the desire so heady it was making his head spin. Without pausing to think about it, his brought his mouth to that sucker, trailing his tongue around the edge of it in a full sweep, almost growling with pleasure when the muscle twitched under his mouth.

John made a noise Sherlock had never heard from him before, a cross between a whimper and a sob as Sherlock increased the contact, licking across the sucker from edge to edge and resisting the temptation to plunge his tongue straight into John’s centre. There was so much to explore here and just the difference in texture between his finger and tongue was enough to keep him occupied for hours, John’s flavour bursting over his taste-buds.

The sucker curled in on itself, trying to guide Sherlock’s tongue, and Sherlock eventually gave himself over to it, lapping at the centre before pressing his tongue slowly inwards. He let his lips slide over the muscle, gently sucking as he began to thrust with his tongue, moaning when John’s other tentacles wrapped their way around his torso and hips, coating his skin in a fine layer of slick.

Beneath him, John was a writhing mass, his hands grasping at the sheets with every thrust of Sherlock’s tongue. The sucker was greedy in its reciprocation, urging Sherlock to keep his tongue buried inside so it could pulse around it, something which Sherlock was becoming hard-pressed to refuse.

He only stopped when he heard John start to whimper, giving the muscle one final suck and a swirl of his tongue before looking down to see John’s reaction to it. In short, John looked like he was in agony, with his eyes clenched shut and his hands twisting at the sheets, pulling the fabric free from the corners of the bed until it became hopelessly tangled beneath them. However, the cadence of his vocalisations had only increased towards the end of Sherlock’s oral stimulation and Sherlock wondered whether John had been close to orgasm just from that alone.

Around him, John’s tentacles were becoming bolder in their attentions, the end of one limb curling around his erection and giving it a thorough coating of John’s fluid. Once satisfied, the tentacle stayed put, using the smaller suckers to tease at the flushed head of Sherlock’s cock, pressing one of them over the slit at the tip and gently pulsing against the sensitive opening.

Sherlock gasped at the sensation, clutching onto the sheets while his hips gently thrust into the rhythm John had set, biting into his bottom lip when another tentacle swept under his testicles, curling around the sack and gently squeezing his balls as the suckers pulled at the taut skin. It was almost too much when the tentacle wrapped around his cock began to mimic the same action and Sherlock moaned, feeling the beginning of his release creeping down his spine.   

Below him, John was slipping further into his heat with every passing minute; every one of his tentacles felt slippery as they moved over Sherlock’s body, each one was purposeful in direction as they played with Sherlock’s responses. “Oh my God,” John panted, looking up through bleary eyes as Sherlock arched into his touch. “Please can I..?”

Sherlock didn’t even need to think about it. “ _Anything,_ John. Anything you want.”   

He’d barely gotten the words out before the tentacle around his balls began to shift again; he could feel the girth change as it slid around his skin in a smooth rotation, the tip of the tentacle sweeping along his perineum and making a long pass up his crack to base of his spine. He soon realised the intention behind it when he felt two other tentacles pry his cheeks apart, exposing his opening so one of the suckers could press against it, the two muscles meeting each other in a sordid kiss. Sherlock purposefully clenched his buttocks, flexing the tight ring to meet John’s sucker and moaning when lubricant dripped down towards his perineum.

“God, that feels good,” John murmured, pressing his head back into the pillow and arching his neck. “Want to fuck you so bad, I can’t even…”

Sherlock groaned, tilting his hips back to expose himself as the tentacle changed position, gently pressing against his opening which was now covered in a layer of slick, spreading it around and prodding into his centre. It was a bit like scratching just to the left of an itch you couldn’t reach; almost exquisite, but it made him want to bite his lip in frustration. God, the memory of John’s tentacle inside him, stimulating his prostate while he was buried inside John’s heat...   

Payback, he decided, was now the order things. Sherlock skipped any attempts at being subtle, pushing at the base of John’s tentacles to get them to part. They obeyed with less reluctance than Sherlock had been expecting, freely exposing the centre of John’s pleasure.

At this point, lust-addled as he was, it was difficult for Sherlock to take in all the details as he would’ve liked, but he tried to commit the sight to memory as he pulled at John’s body again, positioning him so his shoulders were almost touching the back of Sherlock’s thighs.

Seeming to understand Sherlock’s intent, John hissed and pulled away the tentacles which weren’t currently teasing Sherlock at his groin, baring his own entrance for Sherlock’s inspection. It was absolutely _dripping_ when Sherlock traced a finger around the edge and the lips he remembered so well parted at his touch, the moist sound of its internal clenching going straight to Sherlock’s cock.

Sherlock lowered his head, his body throbbing as he pressed his lips against that hole and gently probed with his tongue. John shouted out beneath him, his tentacles squirming erratically as Sherlock met those lips with a kiss of his own, gathering John’s lubricant on his tongue when it leaked into his mouth and swallowing it greedily.

“Oh _fuck!_ ” John’s curse was heartfelt and Sherlock wondered how much it crossed the borders between pain and pleasure. Testing the theory, he circled John’s entrance with his tongue without going to the centre, listening to John’s responses as his partner’s body tried to angle itself so his hole made contact with Sherlock’s tongue again.

“Oh my _fucking God_ , just fuck me already, Sherlock, _please_!”

Scratching to the left of the itch indeed…

Sherlock chose not to respond with words, sealing his lips around John’s entrance and pushing his tongue inside, hearing John cry out beneath him as he licked around the walls of John’s passage. John’s lips were enthusiastic in their reciprocation, drawing on Sherlock’s tongue and pulsing around it as John’s lubricant dripped down his chin.

Perhaps in retaliation of his actions, the tentacle at Sherlock’s hole finally centred itself and pushed inside. Sherlock cried out wordlessly, his fingers digging into John’s hips as his body took over, thrusting forward into the grip around his cock and balls, then back onto the tentacle impaling him, nearly releasing a sob when the tentacle inside him began to use the same rotation as Sherlock’s tongue.

Caught between the pleasures of his body, Sherlock prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he didn’t come right that second, but it was quickly becoming a lost cause. John’s tentacles were keen and very, very thorough in their exploration, stroking and probing his body in all the ways which sent his heart racing. With every thrust of his tongue, the tentacle inside him mimicked the action until he reduced to aimlessly probing John with his mouth, trying to bring John as much pleasure as he was experiencing.

“Oh God, Sherlock, I’m… I’m nearly… _Oh God!”_

Without prompting, Sherlock thrust his tongue into John’s hole as far as it would go; the sound of John’s hellishly loud shout ringing in his ears. The walls around his tongue began contracting with strong pulsations, the lips sucking at his mouth greedily as they sought to keep Sherlock’s tongue inside for the duration of John’s orgasm.       

He waited until John was nearly sobbing from overstimulation before he withdrew, taking a last kiss and lick to the opening before pulling back. His face was sticky with John’s arousal, his mouth and chin completely coated, but it didn’t stop John from throwing his arms forward around Sherlock’s neck and pulling him down for a heated snog. Their moans crossed and entwined between their mouths, with John going as far as licking Sherlock’s face clean so he could push his tongue back into Sherlock’s mouth, giving Sherlock something to suck on.

“Oh my God, you are amazing,” John gasped, pressing his lips against Sherlock’s neck to latch onto his pulse point and sucking at it, breaking away at various interludes to pant words against Sherlock’s skin. “Do you have… any idea… what you do to me?”

Sherlock would have answered, would have taken great delight in showing John just how much he was aware of his influence on him during sex, but any words were quickly forgotten when John brought his considerable strength to bear and flipped them over, pressing Sherlock down into the mattress without withdrawing his tentacle from inside Sherlock’s body.

With barely a pause, John shifted his body so Sherlock’s cock was enveloped in John’s tentacles at their base, the limbs positioning his erection so John could rub his entrance along the length of it from base to tip, oozing lubricant along his shaft and balls. Sherlock watched through hazy eyes as his partner took his pleasure, unable to stop his own moans as John continued the torturous strokes. He was so close to coming himself but he wanted to hold on, needed to last until John was finally satisfied. 

Eventually John seemed to lose any lingering patience of his own, murmuring, “I can’t wait any longer,” and then moaning when the tip of Sherlock’s cock teased at his entrance, John’s body sucking at the flared head before taking him inside, sliding down Sherlock’s cock in a smooth glide that had Sherlock arching up from the mattress.       

Looking up at his lover, Sherlock seized John’s hips under his hands, feeling the rhythm in John’s movements as he fucked himself, using Sherlock’s body for his pleasure. In this position, Sherlock had his legs spread to accommodate the tentacle inside him, again mimicking the thrust and depth of his erection deep inside John, but it also meant that the lips he was so fond of had unlimited access to his own anatomy.

Sinking down again, John’s opening easily slid around his testicles, taking them inside and curling around them until his entire manhood was now encased in John’s body.

“ _John!_ ”

John groaned in answer, circling his hips so Sherlock’s cock nudged at all the right places, his walls pulsing and sucking him with deliberate slowness.

For Sherlock, it was almost overwhelming; He needed a faster pace, wanted to push and pull at John’s hips so he could sink into John’s warmth over and over again, but he was as much at the mercy of John’s heat as his partner was. One side was screaming at him to take; the other was a footstep away from giving in entirely. “John,” he gasped, head twisting on the pillows as the pulsations grew in intensity but not speed, the tentacle inside him probing further to stroke across his prostate. “God, John, I’m so close, please…”   

“Yeah, give it to me,” John murmured, pulling himself up fractionally so he could sink back down, their bodies coming together with a moist, smacking sound that make Sherlock cry out beneath him. “Come inside me. You’re so close now, love, come on, give it to me.”

Sherlock couldn’t disobey him, gritting his teeth as the ecstasy coalesced, whiting his vision behind closed eyes as his orgasm took him in its teeth and ravaged him. The aftershocks were strong and numerous, each throb and pulse of come taken into John’s body as that passage continued to milk him for everything he had until he was gasping, twitching and oversensitive.

He flopped back down on the mattress, for there really wasn’t any other word to describe the action, moaning as John leant down and pressed kisses against his mouth and along his jaw. “ _Fuck…_ ”

“Hmmm-mmm,” John agreed, grinning when Sherlock made vague attempts to try and kiss back. “No going to sleep yet, love.”

“Still had plans, did you?” Sherlock asked, smiling and quirking an eyebrow when he saw the look on the John’s face.

“Well, I haven’t finished my heat yet…”

Sherlock hummed, eyes closing for a fraction of a second before he frowned, realising that John’s body hadn’t disengaged from his own. Realised that his erection hadn’t abated in the slightest. “You…?”

“Told you,” John murmured, his eyes fluttering closed as Sherlock’s cock twitched inside him, his breath hitching in his throat. “Bonded now…”

“Which means?” Sherlock gasped, his eyes widening as John’s passage started to squeeze him, gently massaging to avoid over-stimulation.

“Which means,” John said, nipping at Sherlock’s lower lip, “I’m not done with you yet.”

_To be continued_

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Part two to come very soon!
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on my tumblr (darkangel1211.tumblr.com) and thanks for stopping by! =) xxx


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